“On the surface, the sunrise is never this... beautiful...” Aaron started to think. A morning on a Everest class carrier, would probably be a exciting experience for most civilians, but after so much training, it had become quite mundane. This morning however was different, there was a feeling of excitement that hung in the air. These greenhorns were being shipped off to base, no other reason except for that high command had ordered in increase in troops at all bases across the border.

“Well...I suppose I’ll be the one to break the silence.” Chase said as he munched on his energy bar. “Anyone else notice how these are nothing like the movies?”

“What are you talking about?” Jace responded in his usually angry-morning attitude.

“You know...in all those war movies, there’s always a slight hum from the engines you can hear inside these things.” .... “Eh, forget you gu” Chase started but was interrupted as the intercom started.

“Hello passengers of the Dreary Morning Express, this is your captain speaking. We are now flying over the border, routine action of course, just, if we may, could we have a few moments of silence for any ships who strayed too close to the DMZ.

“Hopefully we won’t be one of those.” Aaron starting thinking again. All he could really do was look around the cabin. Same grey metal broken up by the few viewports dotted around. Closer to the door, the go lights for Jet-Troops. It was quite the sterile environment, supposedly clean enough for emergency surgeries of troops directly after battle. Aaron was getting quite tired of the peaceful silence, and longed for once familiar sounds of battle. The last Confederate war ended when he was just 10, old enough to recall the sounds of battle as the enemy neared closer to his village. Eventually the entire population had to be evacuated, as the Clones we marching right towards them. He was originally a "Pene," or someone living on the Scandinavian Peninsula. He was relocated to Central City, with his mother and aunts. He later found out his father had died in one of the final battles of the war. Since then, along with a majority of the population, he hated everything about the clones. He's hunger for battle was somewhat subdued during training, but he still longed for revenge. As he looked around the compartment, he realized that everyone here, most of them about his age, must have had their own, possibly tragic, stories has him.

“Alright, thank you everyone, carry on” His thoughts were interrupted by the intercom once again.

“Well, now that that’s done we can get back to our conversa...” Chase was again cut off, this time by Kev.

“Hey, I have a great idea, how about we shut up until we get there! And I try to get some sleep!”

Good idea, Aaron thought, once again, as he nodded off...at least for a few minutes...

“COME ON YOU MAGGOTS! GET YOUR ASSES OUT OF THERE!” was the welcome to the greenhorns as they made their way out to the troop bay and into the base. Aaron continued forward, thankful that he had finally gotten used to the weight of his gear.

“MAKE A B-LINE FOR THE COURTYARD! MORNING INSPECTION AND BRIEFING BEGINS AT 0800 HOURS!” WHICH, IF YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED, IS RIGHT NOW!” Aaron and the rest of the recruits now stood at attention. After talking with the pilots, the, what Aaron assumed to be, General marched off to his pedestal in front of the entire collection of the base. “Well...Good MORNING recruits! And, to our resident greenhorns, DROP AND GIMME 50! Now, while you’re doing those, I’ll give you the usual spiel. Welcome to Vector-Front Base. This is the front line, the first barrier between those damn clones, and the rest of New Scandinavia. I am Captain Thorn, leader of Troop K-20, which you have now been assigned to. This base has top of the line defenses, ensuring that should we ever come under attack, we will repel it, and strike back with twice the power. On the ground level, we have the courtyard, the landing area, Vehicle Launching bay, and, of course, the wall. The wall, 2 foot thick duristeel, will defend against any small arms attacks, and a few large ammunition rounds. On the wall is a constant, 24 hour shift guard. Oh, and don’t worry you new guys, you already have your shift planned out. In the basement level is the barracks, which includes sleeping areas, mess hall, latrine, and storage. You will be given a list of duties to complete everyday, once they are done...the time is yours. Up-top, your must always be wearing your battle armor, and carrying at least a side arm. The last rule I’m going to tell you...do not disturb the Mandoa's. Unless they speak to you, those commandos want nothing to do with you. I suppose that’s more of advice, so APPRECIATE it! NOW THEN, ALL TROOPS, LINE UP FOR INSPECTION WHILE I GIVE THE MORNING BRIEFING! Today should be just like every other day, with one small exception, tonight, our Grand Jarl Khaar will be giving a very important speech, which, we will all be gathering in the courtyard to watch. Right after the speech, our Grand Jarl will make his way to our base, for a general inspection, nothing to worry about, just make sure the base is in tip-top shape. Now then, get your list of chores if you haven’t gotten them, and start your day 1st meal is at 0900 hours. ARE YOU ALL CLEAR!”

A fair start, about the same as when I first started with Border Patrol - but it has enough in there to intrigue for further reading.

Feeling like you want too/need too write is an issue is a problem though - one I have suffered from for years now, sometimes with days between posts and sometimes with months between them, at the moment I find my best time to do some writing is in the middle of the night when everyone else is asleep and I am kinda tired myself, just before I think about making another coffee - something Mike posted up on facebook is along the same lines, most programmers do their best work for hours on end during the dead of night and just before they do something to keep awake. The brain kinda locks into a mode where it is "GONNA DO THIS SHIT" and from there the inspiration from daytime turns into actual words in the night.

So yeah, please continue old chap - if anything this forum needs more wordsmithes.

Right there with you. Some of my best work was done around 3am. I enter that trance whenever I sit down and actually do work, so I tend to accomplish a lot in a given session. But motivation is a bitch for me, so these epic bursts of activity happen usually only when months have passed. But I find that the dead of night is a place with little distraction. Even from myself because I've bored myself out for the day. Just leaves that list little hurdle where I go, eh, why not, and jump in. Then, I snap out of it and its noon and I have 40 pages of material. Good times.

I have ended up only writing at night and then sleeping really late. Summer is a bliss. But yeah don't write at a time when you just feel like you have to, write when you actually have a good idea or just feel like it. It is definitly a good start though. Also can someone look at this (not trying to take over your post kalvinator just need some good feedback) viewtopic.php?f=9&t=10572. It is a start I have more but I don't want to post it if no one is reading it.

Aarons first day at the base had been generally routine. His chores were a pain, but no worse than the ones assigned at the training base in Central City. The general was mostly right about the Mandoas, didn't bother anyone, mostly kept to their own little training area near the Launching Bay. Although from what he had glimpsed, there was pc’s and other more leisurely items in there. The only thing of abnormality was that the resident RANGER Squad had taken a Leech Class Artillery out on some secret mission. After the chores, he had set about to training, and had his first 4 hour shift on the Wall. Luckily for him, his shift had now ended just in time to watch the Grand Jarl’s Speech. “Of course we don’t get any chairs,” Aaron thought as the general stepped up onto the stage. He was dressed up more than usual, probably because the Grand Jarl was coming to the base directly after his speech. Although it was somewhat unnerving for Aaron, the rest of the troop seemed at ease. One of the more experienced men at the base said they were pretty regular, and “not a big deal.” Aaron sure hoped so.

“Alright men, ATTENTION!” the general’s voice boomed across the courtyard. “The Grand Jarl’s speech is set to begin in just a few moments, and I wanted to give a few final orders for directly after the speech.” As he said this, a large screen rose up from the stage, directly behind the general. “One, instead of the usual sidearm rule, all personnel must be carrying their “Mojave” Class Assault Rifles, along with their full attack gear. Two, You all must be on your best behavior, we want to once again prove to the Jarl that our base is the best. Third, if you see anything that is not in military order, MAKE IT. We don’t want the Jarl to come here, and get a full view of you dirty dungarees now do we! That should be abou....OH, also, since our RANGERs are not here to work as armed guards, I’ve assigned 4 of you to work as personal meat shiel...I mean bodyguards for the Grand Jarl upon his arrival. Those are, Pvt.s Michel Mackus, Aaron...ironically Shields, Parv Anders, and Simon Hodew. You are to report directly to me following the Jarls Speech, got it!” “SIR YES SIR!” Aaron, along with the other three shouted. Right then, coincidentally...the TV flickered on, and the speech was set to begin....----------------------------------------------------

TO LOOK OUT FOR NEXT!(I actually have the pics done for both of these)-New Scandinavia Armory Update-"The Beginning of it All." (Soap Opera Event we've been waiting for since I've started this army.)(Also, not too many pics, it's just to get things started)

And eventually OPERATION: UNITED Phase 1, Forum Battle. This will be a while, but, maybe once I get some money that'll speed up the process.